Hormone Hostage

Salome by Franz Von Stuck

I'm a jittery little spud tonight. My energy has an irritating, restless quality to it that chaffes. While my husband and his father watch something about air crashes on the idiot box, I've relocated to my study to write it all out. I think part of the problem is that there is an urgency to this energy. It makes me feel that I should be doing something that I'm not. Something I should be doing. I'm probably reading too much into what could be an extraordinarily long coffee buzz (from midday!) but which feels more portentious than that. I have mentioned before that my husband and I are trying for baby number two. It's taken me a long time to get to this stage. It's no secret that these last 20 months with my daughter have not been particulary easy. I have put it off this long because I felt unready to deal with another baby and my wee wun. However, having felt the cluckiness growing steadily with each newborn I see, I have felt my readiness growing. Unfortunately, my naturopath has me on many, many herbal remedies for this that and the other and until I finish this current batch, all baby-making nookie has been verbotten. It's not that I'm bothered about missing the sex part. I'm ok with that being tired-er than a tired thing after a particularly long and tiring day. It's just that I'm ovulating in a very obstinate and pushy fashion this month. I can feel my body tugging at my sensible logical mind with a definite 'stuff it' vibe. If my body was a man it would be dimming the lights and playing Barry White about now. And if my Egg was a woman she would probably look like this.

The minxy little Kelli Dayton formerly of the Sneaker Pimps.

What I shame I don't.

As it is I have Marvin Gaye's 'Let's Get It On' running through my head in a most pointed manner. *Sigh*

The thing is, I'm tempted to give in to this barrage of ovulatory optimism as I am getting frustrated with all the bloody waiting my naturopath is advocating. I just want to get on with it. I'm knocking on the door of 39 in quite an impatient manner and time is of the sodding essence. Also, as one who often ignores or denies her essential nature, it might be quite nice to just throw the bottles of foul potion in the bin and follow the lure of the egg all the way to hatching.

Of course, the flip side of this is that the herbs are designed to give me the best possible chance of a healthy baby with less risk of a miscarriage. They are also designed to clear up a few things that might be limiting my chances of getting pregnant. I want a healthy baby therefore I should wait. My body wants me to jump on the shag train all the way to orgasmsville. Hence the restless energy that has seen me doing about a million different things today and being satisfied by none of them. In fact, each thing I have taken up has felt like the wrong thing. Each choice the wrong choice. It has been frustrating to say the least. Now I have to go to bed. Bed being the one place my ovum wants me to go and the last place I really should go until I'm at least half-unconscious. I fear that I may be visited by the insomnia fairy tonight.

Only one or two more days of this to go and then I can settle into the long, slow descent into the lair of the Dark PMS Goddess again. She who comes on black silken wings to rip open my womb and let the blood flow.
Lilith by Franz Von Stuck

Although, knowing Lilith, she'll be encouraging me to break the sex embargo and go forth and multiply enjoying the fast coursing of the blood in my veins whilst simultaneously waiting to slit one open and drink from it. Such is the fickle nature of the luscious Dark One. Anyway, there is little more sense to be had from me at this juncture. I think I'll go to bed and read. Alternatively, I'll consult one of my many Oracles to see if there is wisdom to be had.